A Noble Awakening
by Saiyan-Princess522
Summary: Vegeta decides to reside on Earth, but how will he fare when a woman comes into his life?
1. Soap and Water

CHAPTER ONE

SOAP AND WATER

Vegeta crinkled his nose and squeezed his eyes – they were firm shut. His still body tensed as he shifted, for he had been frozen for a while.

The ground shook a moment as the spacecraft made impact with the asphalt walkways.

A deep sigh, then an annoyed grunt, and he was off.

Off into Kami-knows-what.

The Saiyan Prince had nowhere else to go. There was no other planet, none like Planet Vegeta that would take him in.

The Earthlings have been at least conscience of his existence. They viewed him as an enemy – though vital when he decided to be on their side.

Vegeta put his arms at his sides when the ramp lowered.

His worn boots plopped heavily one-by-one down the tiled gradient until he reached the mid-point.

The Saiyan turned to face whoever made the wrong decision of confronting him. Once he was through with them – then it was on to Kakarott.

Vegeta was surprised to find the pig, Oolong, trudging along with the floating nuisance, Puar, and the weakling Yamacha.

He had expected others, at least not these Earthlings.

His mind was in a boggled mess figuring out if Earth is a suitable temporary residence for himself. He barely noticed the fool, Yamacha, as he darted across the yard.

"Vegeta," he began, "why are _you_ here?"

Vegeta didn't bother to answer the obvious – the spacecraft was out of fuel.

He was about to rebut when, in the corner of his eye, he saw the aqua-haired splendor with her hands on her hips.

"Hey, you guys!" screamed the young beauty, "Listen, I'd smell one of you from a mile away! I know it's not Yamacha, so it _must_ be you, Vegeta?"

Vegeta was taken aback by her accusation – it was out of her place!

"Well, are you going to stand there and scare anything that breathes away, or are you going to take a bath?" spat the woman.

All Vegeta could do in a situation like this was follow her into one of the four on her property.

It was true, he needed to bathe. Spending weeks in space does make one forget about one's necessities!

Vegeta was amazed, how could measly Earthlings invent such technology?

On Planet Vegeta, most of their technology was for fighting efficiency. He has never seen a kitchen appliance in his life.

"So," the woman broke the silence, "I assume you'll be crashing here?"

He gave no thought to the woman's words, and replied with, "Hn."

Bulma, the young woman, took that as a "yes".

"Alright, my dad is perfecting the blueprints for the Gravity Room – "

"Gravity Room?" interrupted the Prince.

"Yeah, it's like your ships but ten times bigger!"

"Hmmm, maybe residing here will be to my advantage," he thought, "I wonder what other useful things this woman and her bumbling father can create." he got lost in his thoughts.

Vegeta went into dreaming how much progress he will make with the new Gravity Room. He barely noticed that Bulma smacked him on the arm.

"Hey! I'm talking to you! What is with you Saiyans and listening?" Bulma screamed.

Vegeta retorted, "Woman, I, the Prince of all Saiyans, will not be addressed in that manner!'

"Oh, sorry, your _Highness_! Maybe if I start attending to every one of your very needs and toss flowers in the places you walk upon, then will you finally acknowledge me as a living, breathing person? By the way, here's the bathroom – enjoy!"

And with that she stormed off, leaving an alien visitor to the planet to figure out how to use Earth's appliances.

The Saiyan opened the door and gazed around at the all-white bathroom. It was fully-equipped with a full bath and shower, even a counter with "his-and-her" sinks.

After closing the door and examining every nook-and-cranny of the bathroom to search for danger, he looked inside the glass shower. Everything was like the showers he was used to back on Planet Vegeta and Planet Cold. Vegeta removed his tattered boots and placed them aside. He shrugged out of his filthy armor and folded them neatly in a pile.

•••

Bulma heard the water pipes adjust and sank into her chair. She, Oolong, Puar, and Yamacha were outside sipping refreshments – basking in the warm summer sun.

Yamacha put his hands behind his head, "I can't believe you're letting _Vegeta_, of all people, stay here!"

Bulma set down her cup, "Hey, it won't be _that _bad! Vegeta is just a little stubborn, that's all!"

•••

The water remained at freezing temperature to stun all the uncertainty left in Vegeta.

He couldn't take it. He _hated_ the humans. He hated the way they lived, the way they conversed, the way they _fought_.

How could this race continue to exist if they are so incompetent?

Examining the pattern of the tiles for traces of hidden traps in which small weapons could be concealed, he picked up a plastic bottle labeled "Pantene".

Vegeta was familiar with Earth's dominant language; however, the concept of "shampoo" was foreign to him.

Nevertheless, he smelled the silky liquid and oozed some onto the palm of his hand.

"This is going to be a long day." he muttered under his breath.


	2. Ralph Lauren

CHAPTER TWO

RALPH LAUREN

Vegeta grabbed a towel from its hook with his head facing down – dripping wet.

Rubbing his face dry, he looked at himself in the mirror.

His carbon-black eyes told a story of pain, of anguish.

His eyebrows were furrowed because of his constant perplexed state.

His gaze drifted to his Botticelli lips – soft yet formed.

Vegeta shied away from his reflection. He was ashamed of himself for becoming so insecure.

In his younger years, his form, his mind, his _heart_ was never good enough for his master, Freiza.

Saiyans do not age at the same rate as humans; instead, they show maturity and firmness of the skin as the years pass.

The bathroom emanated steam and fog as he pushed open the door.

Vegeta stood in the doorway with only a towel as a garment.

"The blasted woman forgot to give me new attire in exchange for my armor!" spat the Prince.

He crept on tip-toe to the closest room.

Vegeta peeked inside – it was a fitness center. As he edged closer and closer to the where the Earthlings were, he cursed every time a door led to another useless room.

He heard a set of footsteps come down the hall, and he ducked into the next vicinity.

Vegeta kept his eyes shut from behind the door until the set of feet passed.

On the count of three, he reopened his eyes to see where he was – Bulma's room.

"I have never seen so much…pink!" stammered the Saiyan as he surveyed the girly room.

The room was decked out and almost _drowned_ in pink – drenched.

Being masculine and a warrior, the room was petrifying.

He quickly slammed the door shut and huffed a heavy sigh – there were beads of sweat on his neck.

On Planet Vegeta, no one went into another's room; it was an invasion of privacy.

Another set of footsteps made their way around the corner. Vegeta ducked into the next closest room – luckily this one was the guest room.

He sighed in relief when he opened the closet, finding a whole wardrobe for men.

The Saiyan Prince was used to wearing his elite-squad armor – not Ralph Lauren.

From a stack of pants he withdrew black khakis and a long-sleeve gray shirt from its rack.

Vegeta snuck a glance at the full-length mirror. He wouldn't admit it, but he pulled-off human clothes well (unlike Goku).

Stepping out of "his" room, he heard the laughter of the Earthlings.

Vegeta cringed as he directed himself towards the patio. He felt the warmth of the sun and closed his eyes.

He didn't know how long he stood there with his eyes closed, but Bulma was right in front of his face – in his personal bubble.

"Woman!" he shouted.

"So I see you found some clothes – wise choice I might add." Bulma said nonchalantly.

Her tone puzzled Vegeta. He was used to her abrupt and invasive ways; this was not the same woman!

"Woman," question Vegeta, "have you transformed?"

"What? No! What are you talking about, weirdo?" shouted Bulma.

"Weirdo? Of what do you mean by this?" the Saiyan persisted.

"Uhggg, you're impossible!"

And Bulma stormed back to her chair.

Vegeta huffed and went inside, not knowing where he was going.

Eventually, after several wrong-turns and dead-ends, he found the kitchen.

He has never tasted "human food" before – especially none like this.

Vegeta scavenged through the cabinet of cookie and cake mixes, and combined them with raw cranberries and milk – having no idea what these ingredients were or how they tasted.

His whole life, he had servants _bring_ him food. Never before has he seen it being made.

He was so angry from the Earthlings, that he doesn't want to see another one ever again, forcing him to fend for himself.

The Saiyan grabbed a spoon and mashed together his concoction. It turned a pale red color though it had the consistency of building cement.

Vegeta stared proudly at his masterpiece – feeling ever so prideful with his accomplishment.

Taking a seat at the kitchen table, he took the first bite and rolled his eyes with approval.

Just then, Bulma walked in all huffy-puffy.

"There you are!" she screamed, "Where have you been? Do you know how hard it is to find an _alien _around here? No, of course you don't! Are you _ignoring_ me? Wait, what are you eating – it looks disgusting!"

Vegeta didn't say a word; he raised the bowl and spoon to her. She simply winced.

"No…no…no, thank you…I'll pass…"

He didn't accept that answer and pushed it closer to her, raising an eyebrow in insistence.

"Alright, fine…I'll try the stupid thing…"

She took his spoon and the bowl, eyeing it with concerned eyes. She dug a pea-sized amount onto the tip of the spoon and slowly squeezed her lips tight around it as the unknown food reached her taste buds.

Vegeta watched carefully – he hoped she would find it at least somewhat adequate.

Bulma's eyes widened as a smile filled her face.

"Wow, what is this stuff? It's amazing – what's in it?" she pondered.

Vegeta answered, secretly overjoyed, "I'm not quite sure what you Earthlings would call it – I don't even know what to call it!"

Bulma tapped a finger on her lips, "Hmm…what if we called it 'Saiyan a la mode'?"

He smiled a small smirk, "Whatever you say, woman, whatever you say."


	3. Calypso

CHAPTER THREE

CALYPSO

It was almost eleven o'clock at night; Vegeta was getting drowsy.

He was lying on the leather sofa glaring mindlessly at the television with uninterested eyes – the programs served no purpose or entertainment to him.

With a loud yawn, he woke Bulma who fell asleep in the recliner. She abruptly put the chair back in its upright position.

"What time is it?" she asked with a similar yawn.

Vegeta rubbed his eyes, "How am I suppose to know?"

"You're useless," Bulma groaned, "Well, good night – "

"Woman," she stopped when he called her "name", "Where is my resting attire?"

"What?"

"Attire…for sleep?"

"Oh…do whatever you want – I don't care…" and she went upstairs; he heard her door close.

Vegeta spent several minutes locating the power button on the remote, and then went upstairs himself.

He was so tired that he walked with his eyes closed.

"Oof!" said Bulma as Vegeta almost knocked her down, "Watch it, geez!"

He was about to retort when he raised his arm to protest; instead he FELL over in exhaustion – landing right at Bulma's feet.

•••

_"Do you think he has amnesia?"_

_ "No, don't get so carried away…"_

_ "A concussion?"_

_ "Bulma, stop worrying, he'll be fine!"_

Vegeta heard whispers going about. He twitched a finger and slowly adjusted his shoulder – every muscle ached.

Bulma's mother, Bunny, cheered with glee, "Oh, goody! He's up!"

Vegeta winced at her peppiness, and stared sleepily at Bulma.

"Wow, Vegeta you took quite a spill last night – "

"Last night?" the Saiyan interrupted.

Bulma smiled mockingly, "Yeah, you almost knocked _me_ over then you fell over yourself. Didn't they teach you how to at least stay up late on Vegeta-sei?"

"Woman, I'll have you know that if you spent your whole life training incessantly, you would feel _tired_ too!"

"Oh and how many years would that be…45?" she teased. Bunny laughed along with her daughter.

Now Vegeta was angry, "You are really pushing your luck today, woman. My age is none of your business – and it is most certainly not 45!"

Bulma waved a hand to dismiss his refute and left the room with her mother.

"What awful creatures!" he thought, "They have no idea what their place is! Even so, that blue-haired one reminds me of that goddess…Calypso. Trapping me with her beauty. But secretly, underneath her outer appearance, she wants to manipulate me or use my power for her own devises! Well, the Prince of all Saiyans will not let that happen!"

•••

It was midday, and Vegeta's stomach growled like a wildcat.

Normally, Vegeta ate regularly every two hours – one meal after each workout. He kept to his schedule and has never faltered.

Because of his "accident", Vegeta had no idea what time it was or even if it was night or day.

Weakly, he rose from the cot in the medical room.

He looked down at his hands then cast his gaze up his arm, examining his reflexes. Down the hall, he heard the laughter of Bulma and her dim-witted mother.

"Kami, save me…" he muttered.

The Saiyan sneakily crept to where the humans were, making sure he was not to be heard.

"Honey, you can't jump to conclusions –"

"But Mom, he shows _no_ interest in anything! I feel like he is going to bolt once he's finished with his training or something."

"I know, darling, I know. You can't control how that man functions. Think about it. He was raised in another culture – who knows how they viewed women there! If he didn't have that stuck-up attitude, then he would be perfect!"

Vegeta listened with shock. Were they talking about him?

"He only addresses me by 'woman' or something degrading like that…am I not good enough? He _hates_ humans, Mom. In the beginning, he wanted to annihilate us!"

"Oh…you're right, honey. Now, I knew about this when he first walked through our doors. However, I felt then that he would change, become a better man. If he hates humans that much, Bulma, then why is he still here?"

Bulma pondered over that for a few moments.

Bunny continued, "Frankly, I think he is still he for _you_."

"What?" Bulma responded, "Mom, you can't be serious – "

"Mother knows best, Bulma dear. Next time you see him, observe his reactions and body language – he may not be as aloof as you see him as!"

Bulma smiled a mischievous smile, "Here for me, huh?"


	4. Neosporin

CHAPTER FOUR

NEOSPORIN

Never before has Vegeta thought about heirs. It never crossed his mind.

In his "previous" life, it was_ expected_ for him to pass on the royal blood – thus creating a child to inherit the family title.

Now, things are different, things have changed.

There are no other Saiyans, no hope in recreated his race. He and Kakarott were the only ones left – the last of the most terrifying species in the universe.

Kakarott had produced a half-breed, which, in Vegeta's mind, was more useless than not having one at all. The child would merely grow up to not realize his full potential due to the human half – then pass it on to a quarter-breed, then an eighth, then a sixteenth…

Vegeta dismissed these wandering thoughts; he had better things to scrutinize over.

The Saiyan assumed that these worries would subside and, eventually, dissipate into the back of his thoughts – until he was forced to interact with the one called Bulma.

She brought out a side of him that even Freiza couldn't beat out. She is the reason why he still remains on this planet. She is who he looks forward to seeing every day in the kitchen, in her lab, watching television, and, most importantly, bickering with.

To quarrel with Bulma is to add sugar to something already too sugary.

Vegeta is a fighter, and, unfortunately for him, so is Bulma.

The Prince went into the kitchen after contemplating what the woman and her mother were chatting over.

He took his usual place at the kitchen table with a fork in his hand. One of them would bring him his food once they heard him exit the Gravity Room. It became a routine.

Today, no one was there waiting for him – he waited for them.

Vegeta would have been yelling for someone to attend to him. Sometimes it turned out to be a timid Capsule Corp. employee coming to quiet the Saiyan if he was disturbing a meeting – resulting in that unlucky worker fixing _him_ a plate.

Lucky for him, Bulma and her mother heard him come and toiled simultaneously to cook-up a plate that would at least satiate the alien visitor.

Vegeta eyed Bulma with admiring eyes. He never noticed how well she kept herself. To him, the fashions on Earth are absurd. On Bulma, they worked.

Something pulled on his heartstrings. He looked towards the two working ever so hard on a ten-egg omelet; he felt the need to _help_ – the Prince of all Saiyans wanted to help these _humans_.

Bah! He shuddered at the thoughts and sent them away. They will not change his ways.

Bunny set down a glass of chocolate milk in front of him (it was his favorite). She gave him a look stating she sensed he was staring at her daughter.

"It's a wonderful day today, isn't it, _Vegeta_." she snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Hn." he mumbled.

Bulma watched Vegeta, but not with the sincere eyes he had, instead with indecisive ones that were in pain.

She did what her mother told her to do – watch him. He seemed to be in a trance, his body was tense, as usual.

"Vegeta," she broke the silence, "Are you going to train today?"

The answer was oblivious – of course.

Vegeta just stared at her, observed her.

It was creeping Bulma out, actually, she enjoyed the attention from him.

He never acknowledged her, only as his servant or another nuisance to deal with.

For the past year, he has been using (and breaking) their resources here at Capsule Corp – she was in the way.

The Saiyan left his gaze and looked at his hands. He found a cut, inflicted upon him by the training robots, and rubbed a finger over it – making it bleed.

Bulma saw the blood drip down his palm and brought over a band-aid from the cabinet.

If today wasn't such an _odd_ day, he would have cringed at how close she was to him.

Bulma wordlessly, and without protests from Vegeta, grabbed his palm and cleaned the cut with Neosporin.

Vegeta winced when the alcohol seeped into his skin.

She laughed, "So, the mighty Saiyan can withstand a thousand punches, but winces when he has a cut?"

"Hmph." a smirk crept onto his face.

She carefully put the band-aid over the cut – she laughed even harder when she realized it was a Spongebob Squarepants one.

Vegeta rolled his eyes. He has really changed his ways…


	5. Realization

CHAPTER FIVE

REALIZATION

The day just kept getting worse.

Vegeta couldn't explain or justify why it was – it just was!

He continued to stare at it, eyeing it with distasteful eyes. No other Saiyan achieves this level of _maturity_ until much later in his life. This was absolutely unnecessary! He looked at it from different angles, flicking on different light settings to see if it is true – he has a gray hair…

Bulma watched with giggles as the mighty alien warrior worried about this "catastrophe". Earth customs were really rubbing off on him!

"Blasted thing…" Vegeta muttered to himself, trying to pluck it out.

Bulma cut in, "You know, five more will grow in its place."

Vegeta knocked over the soap bottle when he flinched at the woman's sudden presence. He gave her menacing eyes, but she was not affected by them as other Earthlings are. His day now excelled in frustration. It all started this morning…

He was training exceedingly hard when Bulma appeared on the intercom-screen. Being too occupied with annihilating the training robots, he lost balance and fell over – hitting his head on the tile.

Then, if you thought _that_ was bad, Vegeta ran into the weakling, Yamacha. Of course, they got into a squirmish and he threw a punch to the Earthling. Yamacha was lucky enough to block it, but gazed at the bandage wrapped around his hand. "Vegeta, is that _Spongebob Squarepants_?"

So, after falling and being mocked, this was all Vegeta needed.

"Hey, Vegeta, I have an idea," he winced at even participating in the woman's plan, "You're probably going to train all today, like always, but I wanted to invite you out to this really cool artsy-festival downtown! It will be lots of fun! There will be auctions, temporary tattoos, and ice cream – plus its outside and its _gorgeous_ weather!"

Bulma rambled on. The answer was obvious, well, at least to him. She invited him to a lot of events and he voluntarily opted not to go. Why doesn't she just give up?

She continued, "Plus, I heard there was going to be an awesome cook-off. And for a small fee we can go and eat whatever –"

Vegeta stopped her there, "When shall we embark?"

Bulma grinned with glee.

•••

What was I thinking? Going to some stupid Earth ritual where one is surrounded by weaklings and their screaming mongrels. And, no, it is absolutely _not_ "gorgeous" outside today – it's brutally hot!

Vegeta leaned uncomfortably against the brick wall of the ice cream parlor. Wearing dark jeans and a long-sleeve black shirt under his leather jacket was not the smartest idea.

On Vegeta-sei, the summers were mild with a lot of rain whereas the winters were unbearable. Landing on this planet in the middle of July was dumber than wearing all-black.

Bulma insisted that he come with her. The truth is he only came for the endless supply of food other Earthlings have cooked for him. He figured it takes so long at Capsule Corp. to create a simple meal, then it must be like heaven exploded in the park!

Speaking of the nuisance, Bulma opened the door with her shoulder, carrying two ice cream cones – one chocolate and the other vanilla.

"I wasn't sure which one you wanted, so I got the basics!" she was practically jumping for joy.

Vegeta gave the two melting cones a suspecting look. Never before has the Saiyan seen frozen cream on a stick. She held out the two cones saying, "Pick one."

The cones were abruptly shoved into his space and he stepped back a few. Not knowing what either tastes like; he opted for the vanilla since it resembled the ingredients used in his "Saiyan a la mode".

"Oh, good choice! I usually choose strawberry but I'm in a chocolate mood today!"

Vegeta ignored the woman as she went onto explaining all the different flavors in the entire universe. Most of the time, he tunes her out. Since hearing her converse with her mother, he keeps a close eye on Bulma.

He studied her as she rambled. Her young skin glowed. Her lips were exquisitely shaped and appeared smooth; they complimented her teeth – her straight teeth. Her eyes almost bulged out of her head they were so large, but beautiful. Her hair was straight and thick, lying just past her shoulders, it swished when she moved her head.

The Saiyan snapped himself out of his trance. Why was he observing her the way he was? She meant nothing to him. If she didn't, then why is he here, still here on Earth?

Then it hit him.

Vegeta had only been in contact with one other woman in his life – his mother. She was his only woman, the only one he let in. He never considered marriage or a lover, too afraid of replacing his mother.

Bulma reminded him so much of her, strong and bold. It made him weary, even furious, at Bulma whenever he talked with her – believing his mother left him at such a young age – he was angry at his mother, he was angry at Bulma.

"So," she interrupted, "do you want to go look at some art? You probably want to go train or something…"

Vegeta pondered for a moment. After his discussion in his head, does he want to pursue this woman as an acquaintance or leave her and continue to prepare for the androids?

"Woman," he inquired, "what sort of 'art' are you implying?"

She was taken aback by his sudden interest, "Oh, well, there is, um…modern and contemporary – "

"Show me." he ordered.

Bulma smiled and led Vegeta to the nearest booth, throwing the remainder of their ice cream in the trash. He proceeded to twitch when other festival-goers rubbed against him the crowd.

"Woman, why are these so many of you ineffectual creatures scampering about?"

"It's a festival, duh!"

With a scowl unseen by Bulma, he stayed close to her, even if it wasn't exactly what he would have done, to be as far away as possible from the other humans. She felt his presence behind her, and also his uncomfortable tension on her arm.

"Maybe this isn't the best place to expose you to Earthly-culture." she said circumspectly, "Let's go."

Vegeta looked up to the sky and sighed, "Thank you, Kami!"


	6. Some Birthday

CHAPTER SIX

SOME BIRTHDAY

It was scorching – brutally hot for August

July had come to a close, and things at Capsule Corp. were getting stranger and stranger. The Gravity Room was not functioning due to the heat wave, making certain Saiyan very unhappy not to mention bored!

Train. That was all Vegeta did. Eat, sleep, and train.

Unlike his housemate, Bulma, who enjoyed shopping and nature and all the fun things in life; he was only concerned with his strength and power level.

The clock struck nine o'clock. Normally, Mr. Briefs would be in his lab fixing Vegeta's broken training robots while his wife, Bunny, gardened or cooked the Prince his ever so large meals. Bulma would be with Yamacha, even though he is unfaithful to her and she knows it, seeing the latest movie or go out "on a night on the town".

Today, there was not a sound to be heard in the hallways of the billionaires.

Vegeta, in pajamas, peeked his head out the door to see if there were lab-workers roaming about. With the coast clear, he closed and locked his room, heading down to the kitchen. There on the counter lied a post-it which Vegeta viciously tore off, stating, "Vegeta – I'm out with Mom and Dad. It's my birthday…not that you would care."

Appalled, he shredded the note and growled. Her _birthday_? They actually celebrate the day of birth – another year older?

Vegeta has never "celebrated" his birthday on Vegeta-sei. It was not Saiyan-custom to acknowledge one's aging. So hearing of Bulma's plans, he figured it was just him today.

Just him.

The light from the refrigerator blinded the Saiyan when he opened it. Squinting his eyes, he reached for an apple and a gallon of milk. He closed the door with his foot.

Now what would he do?

Vegeta looked around, tapping his fingers on the counter. A whole day without anyone pestering him – a whole day without training.

So, defeated, he took his "meal" to the living room, deciding this was the perfect opportunity to learn how to work the contraption they call a "remote". He sank in the leather couch, chucking the pillows over his head, which knocked over a few vases, and grabbed the controller. He stared at it with bewildered eyes.

"What was it that woman said?" he muttered, indecisively retracting his finger from it.

Finally, with much aggravation, he managed to find the red button labeled, "POWER". The screen buzzed to a start and Vegeta flinched. The current channel was airing a rerun of "Dancing with the Stars" – a show Bulma and her mother watched religiously.

"What in Kami's name is _this_?" said the questioning Saiyan.

The announcer shouted enthusiastically over the crowd, "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to 'Dancing with the Stars'! Tonight, our contestants go head-to-head when they are faced with the Cha-Cha and the Salsa for our Latin-themed show!"

Vegeta sat there with a disgusted look on his face.

"Oh, hell no!" he growled.

The next program was the "Martha Stewart Show" – now this Vegeta was at least somewhat interested in.

Martha got out her ingredients and smiled, "Well, today, we have a _very_ special guest with us. But, before I reveal our mystery man, I want to cook a nice, ice cold signature margarita for those of you hosting a party or – just want to have some fun!"

The crowd went wild, and the Saiyan perked up a little bit. Not knowing exactly what a "margarita" was, he figured if it cooled him down on such a hot day, it had to be good.

Vegeta mentally recorded the step-by-step instructions Martha told "him". He felt a connection to her, even though she was addressing a large percentage of TV-watchers; Vegeta seemed to think it was only him.

When the program was over, he leaped from the sofa and sprinted to the kitchen, gathering the materials for his "margarita".

Vegeta didn't bother measuring. The time came to pour in the alcohol – of course; he basically dumped half a bottle of vodka into the blender (the only kitchen appliance he retained information on). His sensitive hears stung as the blender shrieked his "strong" mixture.

Using an actual margarita glass, Vegeta poured in his concoction while having some left over. He placed the rest in a separate glass on the counter.

Just then, the door burst open and Bulma stormed in with her parents frantically trailing behind her. Vegeta stood leaning against the counter with the margarita in his hand.

"Uhggg!" screamed Bulma, "Why does the mall have to be closed _today_? It's not that hot out – it's called 'air-conditioning'!"

"Woman." grumbled the Saiyan.

"What!" she shouted.

"If my Gravity Room cannot function under the extreme heat pressure, then how do you assume a building of that size maintain a state of cooling?" he sipped his margarita.

Bulma stopped in her tracks, "Wait, are you drinking a _margarita_?"

Vegeta looked at the glass, "Why, yes, I am. Here I made a second batch – you could use it."

She, still shocked by the mere fact Vegeta would make himself an alcoholic beverage, took the glass offered to her. Swishing around the lime-green frozen drink, she sipped it an immediately coughed and hacked.

Vegeta was displeased by her sudden reaction.

"What _*hack*_ is in this?" she barely got out her sentence.

"Some limes and lemons, not much…oh, and that fluid you Earthlings call 'vodka'."

"Vodka?" she strained, "How much did you put in?"

"Half the bottle." he said nonchalantly.

Bulma froze with her mouth hanging open. She looked at the drink and then the Vegeta.

Bunny came into the kitchen, "Oh, how nice! Vegeta, this is a _lovely_ birthday present for my dear Bulma!"

"Mom," Bulma cut in, "this is no time for your compliments! Today has been dreadful! Nothing is open and it's blistering hot! Now I'm bored and sweaty and my throat is burned from this stupid ape's stupid margarita on this stupid day!"

She stormed off.

Bunny picked up her glass and swished it around, "I'm sorry about Bulma, she isn't having the best day. We tried to go to the mall, her heaven, but it was closed because of the heat wave – can you imagine? I just hope at least something goes right for her today, or else, her birthday is ruined!"

Vegeta sensed that the older woman was dragging him into this Earth-celebration of aging.

"Woman, I will have no part in your air-headed schemes!" he spat.

Bunny ignored the rude comment and giggled, "Oh, Vegeta, you can be so funny at times!"

The woman strode off to the garden, leaving a very perplexed Saiyan alone in the kitchen.

A good "birthday", is that all the woman wants?

Vegeta thought he could do something – something so small and insignificant to brighten up the Earthling's day so she wouldn't shout and scream at him any longer. And the mother wouldn't bug him into any plan.

•••

Thirty minutes later, there was a knock at Bulma's door.

She wiped her teary-eyes with her sleeve and rose from her chair. Shuffling to the door, she asked who it was.

"Just open the blasted thing!" came the response.

Bulma immediately opened it and saw Vegeta leaning against the frame with a bowl in his hand.

"Here, stop sobbing and screaming and eat this."

Bulma was greeted by Vegeta with a bowl of "Saiyan a la mode".

"Oh, Vegeta, you shouldn't have – "

"But I did, woman, now do not pester me any longer!" he shoved the bowl to her and stormed off.

Bulma closed her door and leaned with her back against it, days here were getting stranger and stranger by the minute!


	7. Sand in My Shorts Part One

CHAPTER SEVEN

SAND IN MY SHORTS

PART ONE

"Finally…" breathed the Saiyan as he let the early-September breeze ruffle his hair.

The heat wave had died down; all of West City has been enjoying the pleasant change – especially a certain somebody. He stretched his arms out and let the sun warm his face.

Vegeta returned inside to change into his training gear – and a whole day of rigorous training! The Gravity Room has been repaired; however, it has been over a month since it could function without the system collapsing under the immense heat pressure. He's returning to what he does best – what he loves.

Bulma had just completed restoring a training robot to full-health so Vegeta can destroy it. She ambitiously strutted with her accomplishment under her arm into the kitchen. While en route, she halted by the family-calendar on the bulletin board in the hallway. This calendar _saved_ her busy household from utter chaos and disorganization.

Dragging her finger to the third day of September, she was astonished to find that this weekend was Labor Day.

It was a Brief family tradition to go to the beach every Labor Day weekend – usually with Yamacha – why should this year be any different? Probably because there was a stubborn, arrogant Saiyan Prince in the picture who would annihilate the planet if left alone.

"Great," muttered Bulma, "it's bad enough to have this royal-pain ordering me around like I'm his servant; now I have to deal with it at the beach – my safe haven!"

She let out an annoyed groan, which was overheard by Vegeta as he walked through the door. He let a disgusted scowl and a roll-of-the-eye complemented his words, "Woman, what on this blasted planet could make you emanate such a noise from yourself?"

Bulma remained at the calendar, but turned her head towards him, "Because, you monkey-brain, this weekend my family and I are going to the beach; and it wouldn't be fair to the human race if we left you unattended to destroy us all."

Vegeta grabbed water from the refrigerator, "Woman, you think I would destroy the entire race the moment you were out of the house? You amaze me sometimes, Earthling."

"Wait, what –"

"Think about it, crazy one, if I _really_ wanted to end the existence of your petty race, I would have done it already! In an instant, you and everyone you know could be turned into space dust if I wanted."

Bulma pondered over his "words of wisdom".

"Woman," continued the Saiyan, "what in Kami's name is a 'beach'?"

She put her hands on her hips, her mouth dropped like she was punched in the gut, "Seriously? Have you _never_ been to a beach before? Wow, you sure are missing out…"

Vegeta leaned against the refrigerator door, "Trust me, I would not enjoy anything you think isn't worth missing out on."

"Whatever," Bulma was about to give up when she suddenly sprinted to her room, returning with a photo album in her arms, "I almost forgot I had this!"

Curious of what the woman could possibly be doing now, he pushed himself off the door and leaned sideways against the island with his arms crossed. With his full, somewhat undivided attention, she proceeded to flip through page after page of memories. Bulma skipped a few embarrassing ones, so she said, of her as an infant and fumbled to the section labeled, "The Shore '99".

"Aha!" she bellowed victoriously. Vegeta tilted forward to have a glance.

The photos were of her, her mother and father, and family friends – even Yamacha.

Bulma gave a trimmed guided tour of the album, "So, the beach has so much to offer! Like here…I was around eighteen in '99…we were on the boardwalk eating funnel cake – oh, you _have to have_ funnel cake!"

Now Vegeta was getting exasperated by her giddiness, "Woman, need you act like a spokesperson for such products when I have no prior knowledge to what a 'beach' even is?"

With a huff, she closed the album, "You're right, and I'm sorry. I think the whole concept of the beach should be a surprise to you…I can't wait to see your face!"

"Onna," he raised a hand to silence her, "we shall see."

•••

The plan was to leave Friday morning; the Brief's were punctual people.

The weather escalated a tad since earlier in the week; however, that will not stop a determined woman from showing a stubborn Saiyan the beach for the first time.

Bulma walked out the front door holding onto her floppy hat and took off her oversized sunglasses. Wearing a red tube-top and khaki mini-shorts, she was ready for the beach. Meanwhile, Vegeta threw what she bought for him in advance into a small duffle: ridiculous sunglasses, five pairs of swimming trunks, and a fire truck-red towel.

Vegeta tossed the bag over his shoulder and followed Bulma to the orange Mini-Cooper. Dr. Briefs and Bunny drive in a separate car – mainly because they have so many cars that are never put to use.

Bulma hopped into the driver's seat, motioning for Vegeta, who was indecisively standing in the doorway, to come.

"Come on, Vegeta! We don't have all day!" she honked the horn demandingly. He rolled his eyes and smirked, chucking the bag to the back seat. He sat himself in the passenger's seat.

A few seconds passed and Bulma was infuriatingly staring at the Saiyan.

Vegeta noticed that the car has not be started, "Well, woman, are we _ever_ going to get there?"

"Not unless you have your seatbelt fastened, we won't!"

He rolled his eyes again, "You can't be serious –"

Bulma interrupted, "Oh, yes I am! I'm not having the Saiyan Prince fly headfirst through the window, now am I?" He was about to fight back when he just gave in and buckled himself to the rolling machine.

She smiled, "Alright, here we go!"

She previously popped-in a "road-trip CD" for them to listen to for the four-hour car ride. Even though she knew it wasn't safe, she kept one hand on the wheel – and one eye on the road – while attempting to turn it on. Vegeta saw the potential danger in this situation and grabbed her hand, guiding it back to the wheel. He gave her a warning look before returning to stare around at downtown West City. Capsule Corp. was unfortunately located in the heart of a much modernized metropolis.

Bulma caught him in a trance, "Vegeta," he whipped his head towards her, "do you like it here…here on Earth?"

The Saiyan furrowed his brow and gazed back towards the sites, "It is the most hospitable residence that I know of, considering the quality of my previous addresses…"

She let that one go; she knew not even she could touch on that subject with him.

The first song zoomed into hearing, Bulma immediately started bobbing her head and pounding on the wheel – frightening the mighty warrior she was so loud. At home, he heard her music blaring throughout the compound, so he was used to it by now.

Bulma piped another question, "Vegeta," this time he didn't turn towards her, "did your planet have any traditional songs or dances?"

Vegeta continued to stare into space, though twitched his eye, "Vegeta-sei," he started, "was not the type of planet to express its _unique_ culture – if you could even called it that – through trivial music and movement."

"So that's a no, then?"

Then he looked at her; he looked into her eyes with deep ones, "No, unfortunately, we did not." She shifted in her seat and checked her appearance in the rear-view mirror, pulling strands of aqua hair from her face. They went another hour without speaking. The Mini-Cooper jetted into the countryside which really fathomed the Saiyan. Farming, agriculture in general, was a completely different language.

"Woman," he piped, "what are those ridiculous-looking creatures moseying in the fields?"

She scanned the open pastures for what he might be acknowledging; the only animal in the vicinity were cows.

"Oh, those are cows – the smelly buggers!" answered Bulma with a slight intonation of a British accent in her speech.

"Cows?" quarried Vegeta.

"Yeah, that's where beef and milk come from." then she pondered for a moment on what he was inquiring, "Wait, on your planet; they had milk and meat, right?"

Vegeta was perplexed by her sudden interest in Vegeta-sei's food supply, "Yes, why?"

"Well, then you must have had cows, right? I mean, were did you get milk and meat from?"  
He looked to her with an obvious-you've-got-to-be-kidding-me look, "Woman, meat was distributed throughout the entire Saiyan race by these "alien cows" – our version of these grazing monsters. As for milk, we simply used the amount provided by our conquered planets."

Bulma swerved the car a little, "What?"

"Woman, what is so shocking to you?"

She regained control of herself and the tow-ton vehicle in her hands, "Alright, then."

Vegeta ignored her prejudice since he has so many for her and the human population. There was a sign ahead stating, "Beach 2.4 miles"

"Yay!" squealed Bulma, "we are almost there!"

Vegeta rested his elbow on the door and thought to himself, "Oh, Kami, now the _real_ trouble has just begun…"


	8. Sand in My Shorts Part Two

CHAPTER EIGHT

SAND IN MY SHORTS

PART TWO

The Mini-Cooper jolted uneasily as it sped over gravel and sand. An uneasy car meant for an uneasy Saiyan.

"Woman, would it be such an inconvenience for you to _slow down_?"

Vegeta was nearly gripped the projectile car for dear life. She swerved the car left and right, not obeying any traffic signs or lights. After a few angered pedestrians and a few barking dogs chasing their bumper, the two, with no grace at all, screeched into the driveway of a modern beach house.

Bulma jumped out of the driver's seat, stretched her arms out and breathed. With her arms still in the air, she turned to address her partner-in-crime; however, he refused to leave the coupe.

She put her hands on her hips, "Vegeta! I have had enough of your attitude and whining – get out of the freakin' car!"

With a look of condescension, he simply responded in a surprisingly soft tone, "Do _not_ get me started, Onna. I have had to put up with her idiocy and stupidity for the last 135 miles!"

Bulma countered, "Oh yeah? Well, I've had to deal with your complaining and your crabby mind-set on this whole weekend! Sometimes, I think it would have been better if I hadn't invited you to stay in the first place…"

Vegeta felt a heartstring tense. He said nothing; instead he grabbed his things and slammed the door shut after him. Bulma didn't watch him storm off, but flinched when she heard the front door crash nosily to a close as well.

"Uhggg!" she kicked the car tire, only resulting in her foot to throb like the massive headache in her head. She crossed her arms and tapped her foot repeatedly. She grinded her teeth and scrunched her nose; her parents whirled into the next parking space. She shook away her negative attitude and fluffed her hair about, sighing in exhaustion as she felt the consequences of road-trips.

"Bulma, dear!" cried her mother as she scurried towards her less-than-enthusiastic daughter, "Bulma, isn't this _exciting_? We're finally here! Can you believe it?"

Dr. Briefs unloaded the bags from the trunk and started up the wooden porch-steps, "Say, where's Vegeta? If I recall, he was with you in the coupe, right dear?"

Bulma entwined her fingers together, "Um, yeah. He sorta...left…I guess..."

Bunny cut in, worriedly, "What do you mean, honey?"

She shifted her weight to her other leg, "Well, we kinda yelled a bit...then he went inside and hasn't come out since, so –"

"Wait, _yelling_? Did you two have a _fight_?"

"No, Mom. Well, I guess you could – no, we didn't. It was nothing. Let's just go inside…"

The Briefs gathered the rest of their luggage and trudged up the creaky stairs. After Dr. Briefs fumbled with the keys; they were looking puzzlingly at an open back-door leading onto the beach-front porch. Bulma was the first to drop everything and investigate. Her parents tip-toed behind her.

Vegeta was sitting on the railing with one arm wrapped around his leg close to his chest, the other hanging down. His body was still, his face stoic; however, his eyes were unreadable. With his keen Saiyan senses, he knew she was indecisively standing in the doorway. He exhale deeply, making Bulma want to retreat back inside.

Instead, she casually strode over to the railing and rested her elbows on it, staring into the distance as well.

"Hey." she murmured.

There was no reply.

Bulma then realized they were staring at the beach – _he_ was staring at the beach. This was the first time he had seen one, though he didn't seem excited or overjoyed by it. She hoped onto the railing beside him, swinging her legs back-and-forth.

"So," she started, "this is the beach! Isn't it cool? My mother was practically leaping for joy in the driveway. She can be annoying sometimes, but she means well…"

Vegeta stretched his neck and exhaled, then turned to face Bulma with eyes that read he needed sleep, "Woman," he almost whispered, "this will be a _very_ long weekend for me. I would suggest that instead of talking about this so-called 'beach', we go _onto_ it. How's that for an idea?"

Bulma giggled, "Yeah, we probably should get you to the beach soon. I'm glad you're not a kid anymore, because you would have bolted to the sand once you got out of the car!"

•••

Vegeta opened his duffle bag and pulled out a pair of black swimming trunks. He quickly closed and locked the door to his room before changing out from his dark-blue jeans into them. Bulma was in the room next to his, while her parents were across the way. The beach house was quite large, having a basement, main level, and upper level for bedrooms.

He was the first to emerge, naturally. The Briefs would take at least an hour to unpack the several bags _each_ they brought. Of course, Dr. Briefs had brought some lab equipment in capsules; however, they take up space when released.

He went back onto the porch to scope out the humans. To him, similar to life on Vegeta-sei, different types of humans would reside in different parts of the world. He figured in West City, they were loud and obnoxious, and here, they were calmer and more Zen. There was an overwhelming amount of umbrellas and beach chairs – why couldn't people embrace the Earth's resources instead of shying away from them?

A few doors closed and he went back inside. Bulma and Bunny were head-to-toe in accessories, while Dr. Briefs sported his usual lab coat over swimming trunks.

Bulma piped up after she grabbed the last of their bags, "Well? Are we ready? Let's go!"

She was the first to exit onto the porch and started down the stairs to the beach. Vegeta decided that was a waste of his time, flying over the railing, landing softly on the sand. Bulma nearly had a fit when he did this, "What are you _doing_? Are you insane? You can't just go around being all Saiyan-like! Do you want to be on the ten o'clock news?"

Vegeta rolled his eyes at her. It took some time for the older folks to descend the stairs without falling through. When they finally reached where the two were, all four trudged sloppily in the sand.

Vegeta took the first step into the sand with the sun shining on it and yelped out in shock, "This 'sand' is cooking us alive! What is the meaning of such boiling grains?"

Bulma shook her head and smiled at his lack of knowledge of Earth's terrain, "Vegeta, it's only _hot sand_ – you won't die from it!"

With that, Vegeta held in his secret pain when each foot came in contact with the "deadly sand". The two ladies trotted happily to their spot right in front of their house. They dropped their bags in a great heap and starting fanning themselves.

Bulma put a hand to her forehead since the sun was in her eyes, and addressed Vegeta, "So, you're a big, strong man, right?" he cringed at her loud tone, "can you put up the two umbrellas? That would be great."

He couldn't really say "no", so he opened the umbrellas and with no effort at all, jabbed each of them several feet deep. They laid out the chairs and he tossed his towel onto one of them.

"Woman, what now?" he nearly barked.

Bulma didn't look up from her bag, "Um…well, you could go swimming or lay on the sand, I guess…" That was not a lot of options; he opted for swimming. He observed others in the ocean playfully splashing each other or body-surfing, wanting to mimic their "appropriate" water-etiquette. He knew Bulma would have his head if he tried anything stupid.

Vegeta took off his red shirt and tossed it behind him – nearly hitting Bunny in the head.

"Oh, you're going swimming Vegeta, dear?" she noticed, "Bulma, why don't you and Vegeta go swimming – I'll take pictures for the album!"

Bulma gave her mother a "you've-got-to-be-kidding" look. Bunny could be a real airhead sometimes. Nevertheless, she removed her sarong and hat. She folded her sunglasses and tossed them on her chair, shaking her hair out of its bun. When she was done, she saw Vegeta already at the water's edge – standing there idly.

She grumbled and with as much grace as possible made her way to him in the sand. He turned when he heard"Oof" from her; she almost tripped over her own feet! Vegeta tried his best not to burst out laughing; Bulma would truly hit him square in the nose. Just then, a young boy of about eight ran in between the two – nearly giving him a heart attack. Bulma saw the probable danger with an upset Saiyan, "Listen, Vegeta, there are _tons_, I repeat _tons_ of millions of kids on this beach. Either you learn to deal with them or learn to deal with them. I mean, what if you want to have kids someday? How are you going to get any peace at all if you cannot stand this kid?"

His eyes narrowed, "Are you insisting that I would be a _bad father_?"

Now, Bulma's eyes widened, "What? No! I'm not saying anything! Y-you would b-be a great dad!"

He smirked and turned his attention to the water. He saw the young boy get pummeled by a wave and disappear in the sea foam. A moment of confusion struck – where could the boy have possibly gone? He instantly felt stupid when the kid washed up onto the shore and immediately ran right back into the water.

He let his feet sink into the muddy sand, watching it ooze between his toes. Bulma bent down and picked up a seashell, running her fingers over its rough edges.

Bunny screamed to them from the under the umbrella, "Are you two ready? I found the camera! You'll never guess where it was, in the _sunscreen_ bag! Can you believe it? Yoo-hoo! I want to get a picture of you two young things!"

It seemed like everyone on the beach turned to see who the crazy lady was screaming at; Bulma and Vegeta looked at each other with a mutual look of embarrassment. Bulma's eyes darted to the water and they bolted into the next wave.

Unfortunately, the two were so consumed with anger towards Bunny that they dived under the wave just as it curled over. Bulma yelped and was sent tumbling back to shore. Vegeta, despite his mighty Saiyan strength, was pushed far under water. His body was propelled into a set of rocks, hitting his head. Instantly, he was knocked unconscious. As his lungs filled with water, a memory replayed in his head.

_"Why, Vegeta, you don't look so good!" a maniacal voice cooed at him._

_ His head was pushed even farther into the stream._

_ "How dare you even try to disobey me! You had a mission and you failed to comply. You're weak, just like your father…"_

_ He coughed water once his head was brought back up, "Lord Freiza, please! I am sorry, sir. It won't happen again –"_

_ "Lies! You and the rest of your pathetic race should be obliterated. You are of no help to me…"_

Vegeta regained consciousness from his haunting memory and frantically swam upwards. Bulma was wringing out her hair on the water's edge when he trudged out. She wore a scowl and moaned annoyingly as she pulled seaweed off her arm.

She stopped when he appeared in front of her, "Woman," he started, "never again."

Bulma rolled her eyes and laughed, "Yeah, that was my fault! Maybe you and the ocean just don't click."

Vegeta pretended he agreed with her and nodded. He turned towards the water again, his memory still lingering in his thoughts.

"Never again, Freiza." 


	9. Retraction

CHAPTER NINE

RETRACTION

Vegeta sat on his blanket cross-legged, leaning back on his palms. Bunny was knitting some sort of hat while Dr. Briefs looked at blueprints and paperwork. Bulma, on the other hand, was attempting to build a sand castle. Others on the beach were doing things as a _family_. Whereas the Briefs were doing what they normally did at home – except in swimming suits.

He was getting bored. It had only been an hour, how could they possibly stay out here for at least four? He wanted to go home and train, not frolic on steaming grains!

He noticed his right arm, which was in the direct sun, turning a light reddish tint. He unwillingly listened to Bulma before they left about smelly paste called "sunscreen". Of course, he never paid attention. Out of options, he decided to pester Bulma; a good argument with her would ease the boredom. She was happily packing sand into a plastic bucket when he happened to throw a beach ball at her head. She dropped her bucket, turned around and glared angrily at him. He just smirked. With revenge in her eyes, she grabbed the ball with two hands and gripped it tightly.

"What the hell was _that_ for?" she shouted. Her parents looked up from their work.

Vegeta was shocked by her lack of humor, "Woman, it was not intended to render you unconscious. It was simply an act of –"

"Oh please," she stopped him, "I've had enough of your 'petty' excuses. Now if you don't mind, I have a sand castle to build."

He looked even more confused than before, "A what?"

Bulma rolled her eyes, "Didn't you do _anything_ fun on your planet?"

The Saiyan pondered for a moment, "Actually – wait, no, I was beaten after that one…no, not really."

With another roll-of-the-eye, she returned back to her construction, leaving Vegeta without an explanation.

He turned to the two elders and barked, "You, cook-woman, what is this 'sand castle'?"

Bunny raised her head in awe at who could be calling her name, "Oh, Vegeta! Well, a sand castle is a castle you build out of sand!"

He waited for more, "That's it?"

"Yep!"

Vegeta grinded his teeth together. Why couldn't the woman have said that, instead of having to ask the peppy-airhead? Dr. Briefs checked his watch and lifted his glasses off his nose.

"Well, would you look at the time? I don't know, kids, but I think it's time for some lunch!" He slowly rose from his chair and pushed up his glasses, gathering all his materials. Bunny gleefully sprang up and collected her luggage from under the umbrella. Bulma frustratingly kicked her sand castle to ruins. Vegeta was startled by her violent behavior.

"Woman," he persisted with a hint of concern in his tone, "why would you establish a castle of burning grains for yourself then immediately demolish it?"

Bulma, who now was sick and tired of his questions, turned to him and screamed, "You know what, Vegeta? I have had it with your _stupid_ questions and constant nagging on why I am particularly doing something! It seems you cannot function on this planet without my supervision – honestly, go find another planet to annoy!"

His face didn't show the pain in his chest he felt, "Fine then, woman. I shall go. Do not expect me back at the compound any time soon."

She never thought he would take it seriously. Her throat was restraining her from calling out his name and pleading him to stay. Bulma truly enjoyed the Saiyan's company even though he isn't perceived to be the most-open of all guests. As she watched him walk away, a little voice in her head asked her, "Are you really going to let him go?" No, she wasn't. Her legs lead the way and her feet pounded over the track of his footsteps. Vegeta slowly turned to face the frantic Bulma who stop short when they were inches apart.

"No," she panted, "don't go, please, j-just stay. You only just got here two –"

He put a finger to her lips, "No more."

Grabbing his things, he continued to walk. Instead of flying off into space, he glided straight towards the beach house – relieving Bulma from her prior worries. She sank down to the sand and caught her breath, why was he taking so much energy out of her? She hated him for what he did to her friends, but he attracted her like a magnet. Every time she tried to inch farther away – he'd pull her back.

•••

Sunday came before they knew it. The sun continuously burned the already-burned pale skin of Bulma. She had to reapply aloe to her crisp-red legs and shoulders. They all appreciated this weekend; the busy life at Capsule Corp. wears them down when the company is that vast. Bunny and Dr. Briefs began packing up kitchen wares when Vegeta appeared from his bedroom, walking stiffly and painfully.

Bunny set down the glasses and rushed over to his side, "Oh, Vegeta! Are you alright, dear?"

He looked at her with a sarcastic frown, "No, woman, I'm just dandy. Of course I'm in pain! Your Earth sun damaged my thick Saiyan skin!"

She cast her gaze unto his bright-red arms and gasped in shock. She quickly scurried to her room and retrieved the aloe. Before he could object, she oozed some onto the burns and began massaging it in.

"What, ow! Stop that immediately, weak Earthling!" retorted the Prince.

Bunny squished her brows together in confusion, "But, Vegeta, if you want the burning to stop, then you must apply aloe every three hours."

"I don't care about the stupid aloe – just get your hands off me!"

As Bunny released her grip on his arm, the others walked into the house, calling to them that the cars are all loaded-up. Vegeta moaned all the way to the orange Mini-Cooper, got in and sulked until Bulma hopped in. Knowing she would ask "why the long face?" he quickly used his acting skills and forced the frown away. Suddenly, he felt drowsy and the next thing he knew he was out.

•••

Vegeta woke up to the car door slamming. He had no idea why he passed out or for how long, but his neck was stiff and sore. The burns on his arms subsided and the inflamed redness was no longer visible. In the distance, he saw Bulma trudge inside the compound with her bags. Behind the Saiyan, his duffle laid neatly on the floor. He grunted and pushed the door opened with such force that one of the hinges snapped off. He could care less.

Bulma was scanning the refrigerator for food when he strode in, tossing his bag onto the counter. She didn't turn but asked, "Did you have fun?"

He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, "You could say that."

"I mean, besides the whole sunburn and wave incident, was it relaxing? I sure needed it, after all of the work I do, especially programming your training robots."

He perked up at the mention of the bots, "Speaking of training, when will the next set of robots be ready for annihilation?"

She slammed down the water she was drinking, "What! You have got to be kidding me! I'm back for three seconds and you immediately pester me with this crap?"

He returned her rebut with his own, "This crap? Training in the Gravity Room is vital to ascend to –"

"A Super Saiyan, I know," she interrupted, "so you can fight the androids and be revered a hero then we'll all bow down to you, declaring you King of the Universe!"

At that he smirked, "You'd better believe it woman. Next thing you'll know, I'll be ruling over this planet, if it's still here."

She slammed her fists on the counter, "Nuh-uh! You wouldn't do that, would you?"

"Yuh-huh! If I am pushed past my limits I will!"

"Your 'limits'? You get pissed of the instant things don't go your way!"

"At least I'm not a spoiled brat!"

"You're a spoiled _Prince_!"

Before they knew it, they were so close they could feel each other's breath. Vegeta stared at her with his pain-filled carbon eyes while she gazed back with her big blue ones. Never moving a muscle, they continued to feed off the energy between them. The tension that has been overwhelming them has retracted. He leaned in closer and closer until the tips of noses were touching. This moment is what these two fiery personalities have been waiting for. Vegeta, the Prince of all Saiyans, has had a noble awakening.


	10. London Bridge is Falling Down

**I HAVE DECIDED TO CONTINUE THE SERIES AFTER ALL! PLEASE READ AND REVIEW **

CHAPTER TEN

LONDON BRIDGE IS FALLING DOWN

Vegeta woke up completely drained of energy and focus. His tired eyes drifted towards the clock and mumbled, "2:38 – ughhh…"

He rolled onto his back; his right arm draped over and hit something hard like bone. In fact, it _was_ bone – human bone to be exact. A moment of panic rushed over the Saiyan. His tortured mind flashed him back to the reign of Freiza, and waking up in the middle of a battlefield next to a corpse.

His stiff neck cranked when he rotated to the right, scared of what was _really_ next to him. A sigh of relief, then a gasp of horror. It was not a corpse, but something worse, something that smelled of sweet flowers and rain. Something that made him forget all of his morals, all that he stands for being a Saiyan Prince. That something was Bulma.

Where was he? Not in his room, that's for sure. He immediately sat up, gazing around the room illuminated by the moon. A shiny object caught his eye and he focused in on it.

"Damn!" he cursed. The shiny object was a silvery alarm clock on a pink – very pink – desk. This could only mean he was in her room, her bed.

Instinctively, he jumped from the bed, staring down at the sleeping Bulma. Had he done the unthinkable, the unfathomable? He would never admit to her that he was a virgin. No, _never_. Saiyans mated to procreate, not out of pure desire and love. This was way out of line! She was not royal family material, the bloodline is dysfunctional now! Vegeta shook his head to rid himself of such thoughts. There was no proof to justify what _exactly_ happened. He could have easily been too tired to make it to his room down the hall. Believable, right? But, how could he explain that he wasn't wearing garments – and they were on the other side of the room?

"Why, why me?" he thought, "I don't even _like_ this baka, let alone consider her a _friend_ – not to mention a _mate_!"

He crept over to his clothes, wincing whenever the floor would creak. He peaked over at Bulma who rustled in the covers. She laid there, unfazed by the uncontrollably scared alien trying to sneak out of her room. Her legs were curled into her abdomen, with her long arms wrapped softly around them. There was not a sound, just his constant breathing, and the ruffle of his eyelashes whenever he blinked.

"Blasted Onna," he whispered, "why do you have to be so _smart_? Why do you always insist on putting up with me – even after I yell at you? And yet, you seem to be in a continuous state of pleasure. Life is your canvas, and you paint away…"

He trailed off until only his lips were moving. Snapping back to reality, he quickly snatched his clothes and threw them on, being mindful not to apply too much weight to the creaky wood floors. She shifted again in the bed, however, moaned as a hand came to her face and rub an eye. Vegeta froze.

Bulma sat up slightly, her hair a mess, eyes red, but smiling, always smiling. Her blue eyes adjusted to the dark room, and she squinted at a tall figure standing absolutely still.

"V-Vegeta?" she mumbled. She blinked and he was gone. There was no figure illuminated by the windows anymore. She could have sworn it was him! Who else would have tall spiky hair and a build like his? Bulma felt something soft by her feet and flipped over the sheets. In a wrinkled mess was a black shirt that smelled of leather.

"Oh no…"


	11. You

CHAPTER ELEVEN

YOU

Vegeta inhaled deeply, then exhaled rapidly, his breath uneven. He was sitting in the kitchen staring at the three empty bottles of cabernet wondering what went wrong. What _did_ happen that night? Was it the alcohol, something he had never consumed before? Or, was it pure lust, or worse, _love_…

He would never know for sure, but, maybe the woman knew. Maybe she had a better memory than the Saiyan whose head was smashed against a wall everyday as a child. He rose when she shuffled into the room in her robe and slippers.

"Wow," he grumbled with sarcasm, "you look splendid."

Bulma smirked, "And you look just _dashing_, oh great _Prince_!"

Vegeta returned to staring at the bottles in the sink, furrowing his brow. Bulma followed his gaze and raised her own brow.

"Well," she started, "are you going to tell me how you let me drink three bottles of cabernet or not?"

He was taken aback, "Wait, what? _You_ drank these?"

She laughed, "Um, yeah! You can't tolerate alcohol, remember?"

"Hmph, very well. How come you're the one who was intoxicated and I can't remember a _damn _thing! Explain to me this!"

Bulma sat down on a stool, "You see, from what I recall, we were arguing, as per usual, and _you_ grabbed me around the waist and –"

"Ok, ok!" he shouted, "That doesn't explain –"

"Then," she resumed, "we took it upstairs."

He pinched the bridge of his nose, "Upstairs?"

"Um, _yes_," Bulma responded obviously, "they did have stairs on Vegeta-sei, right?"

"Of course they had _stairs_ you dim-witted _baka_!"

Bulma got up and retightened her robe, "Look, Vegeta, we had a great night, or at least _I_ had a great night. So would you do me a favor and _not_ ruin it for me?"

Vegeta clenched his teeth, "I had a great time, too."

She put a hand to her ear, "Wait, what was that? I couldn't quite hear it?"

He shut his mouth tighter, "I had a great time –"

"You know, Vegeta, Earthlings don't have super-natural hearing like you do, so would you mind -"

"I SAID THAT I HAD A GREAT TIME!" he bellowed.

Bulma's eyes widened in pure joy and fear, "Oh, _Vegeta_, I didn't know you felt that way!"

"And only _you_ will know it, got it?"

She advanced towards him, "Oh yes, your Majesty, it will be our little secret…"

**THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER – FOR REAL THIS TIME – IF YOU HAVE ANY IDEAS FOR FURTHER STORIES, PLEASE LEAVE A REVIEW **


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